


Shipping and Handling

by Toad1



Series: A Horse With No Name [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toad1/pseuds/Toad1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kobra Kid gets kidnapped by night bandits, Party Poison must team up with Cherri Cola and Tommy Chow Mein to outsmart the bandits and save both Kobra and the shipment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shipping and Handling

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt I received on Tumblr: "Poison getting upset/scared and calling Kobra by his real name."

A crescent moon glowed high above the desert as Party Poison drove down the highway, dust billowing in his wake. Stringy dark clouds hung in the sky. He flicked on the radio for a moment to check for news, then switched it off again. The air was silent except for the hum of the engine. The desert rolled past the windows like a film reel, with Joshua trees silhouetted against the sky.

The headlights cast across a bend on the road. Poison glanced over at Kobra Kid, who was asleep in the passenger’s seat. He switched on the blinker and slowly veered around the bend so as not to wake him. When the road was straight again, he checked the fuel gauge. The tank was almost empty. He was thinking about stopping at a gas station when he spotted a pair of headlights straight ahead.

When the lights grew closer, he realized they were attached to a truck. Poison’s stomach tightened. _No_ , he thought. He hit the gas pedal, but the truck was already veering to the right. It parked in the middle of both lanes, its headlights shining out into the desert. The reflection from the Trans Am’s headlights rippled across the black surface.

 _No_ , Poison thought. His chest tightened with panic. _Oh God, no. No, no, no, no._

He jammed his foot on the pedal and started to back up. But a woman was already stepping out of the truck, with two others following behind. She pointed her gun at the windshield.

“Stop,” she said.

Poison stopped the car. A voice in his head told him to grab his gun, jump out of his seat. But his mind had gone blank. He sat frozen in the seat, paralyzed with fear.

“Come on,” she said. “Move. Out of the car.”

Poison’s hands trembled as he fumbled with the door handle. Suddenly something stirred behind him. He whipped around to see Kobra stirring awake. _Shit_ , he thought. _Oh, shit. No._

“Stay here,” he hissed.

“What?” Kobra said blearily. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just stay here. Don’t move.”

Kobra looked at him strangely. Then he saw the bandits standing in the road, and he snapped to alertness. “No!” Poison said. But Kobra had already grabbed his gun and jumped out of the car. Poison stumbled out of the car and slammed the door, loosely pulling his gun from its holster.

Kobra pointed his gun at the woman. She didn’t react. For the first time, Poison realized that she and her partners were dressed in pitch black.

“We heard that you were making a delivery to Tommy Chow Mein,” she said.

Poison tried to speak, but his throat had closed up. Panic rose like acid in his gullet. He was starting to think he had doomed them both when Kobra suddenly spoke up.

“Who told you that?” he said.

“That’s none of your concern,” the woman said. “We’re willing to make a deal with you. If you give us the package, we’ll drive away. No one has to get hurt.”

“We can’t,” Kobra said. “It’s gone. We delivered it.”

“Let us see the car,” she said.

Kobra started to refuse, but the woman’s partners took out their guns. The words caught in his throat. He opened the doors and let her inspect the inside of the car. Then he unlocked the trunk and popped open the lid.

“There,” he said. “It’s just emergency supplies.”

After she examined the trunk, he closed and locked it, handing the keys back to Poison. His hand trembled as he stowed the keys in his jacket pocket.

“And if you’re thinking about attacking Chow Mein, he’s got the Ultra Vs guarding the place,” Kobra said. “They’ll be there every night.”

The woman’s expression was pensive. She twirled her gun around in her hand before stashing it in its holster. Then she turned and started back for the truck. For one heart-stopping moment, Poison thought they might actually drive away. Then she gave her partners a flick of a nod. He started to shout, but they were already upon them.

Poison yelped as the female partner tackled him to the ground. His gun went off and shot aimlessly into the air. He writhed and struggled like a fish flopping in a boat, but she wrenched his arms behind his back and pinned them there. Her boot pressed hard into his back. Beneath the car, he could see the man dragging Kobra’s struggling body away.

“No!” he shouted. “Kobra! _Kobra!_ ”

Poison kicked and fought against the pavement, but the woman didn’t budge. Kobra’s shouts grew louder and louder until a door suddenly slammed, cutting him off. “Kobra!” Poison shouted. Suddenly he was wrenched to his feet, dragged forward, then shoved hard into the grasses. Poison hit the ground with a thud as the truck’s engine roared behind him.

The woman’s footsteps pounded against the pavement as she hurried back to the truck. Poison scrambled to his feet, the dry grasses prickling his skin. He snatched up his gun and whirled around. The truck was already starting down the highway. He raced after the truck and fired at its back wheels. Lasers sparked against the pavement like fireworks. He pushed himself to run faster, his leg muscles throbbing, but the truck finally sped up and zoomed off into the night.

Poison staggered to a halt, gasping for breath. Every muscle in his body throbbed. He pushed his sweaty hair back from his face, a crying scream bubbling in his throat. Then he turned and hobbled back to the Trans Am. He sank back into the driver’s seat, then jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened.

 _Oh no_ , he thought. _No. Please no._

He turned the key back and forth, but the car remained silent. His heart rate rising, Poison fumbled around in the dark until he found a flashlight in the glove compartment. He switched it on and pointed it at the dashboard. The meter on the fuel gauge pointed to _E_.

“Shit,” he said. “Oh, shit, _no, fucking hell! Fuck! You fucking piece of shit!_ ”

Poison beat his fists against the dashboard, shouting incomprehensibly. The world seemed to explode around him like a burst fruit. All his anger collided into one outburst, an explosion of fury and heat like a fire swept up in a dust storm. He shouted and writhed and bashed his fists against the steering wheel in a throbbing rage.

Suddenly he remembered his transmitter. He ripped it off his belt and turned it to the right frequency.

“Kobra?” Poison shouted. “Hey! Kobra! Are you there? Say something!”

Static hissed from the speaker. Frustrated tears brimmed in his eyes.

“Kobra,” he said. “Just pick up, man. Just say something. Please.”

No answer. Poison slumped back against the driver’s seat. He wiped a hand across his face, then picked up the transmitter again.

“Mikey,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kiddo. Just answer me. Please.”

He strained to listen, as if he might hear a voice murmuring in the static. But there was no answer. Poison switched off the connection, then slowly wiped his eyes on his palm. After a few minutes of silence, he picked up the transmitter and turned it to another frequency.

“Hey,” he said in a wavery voice. “Cherri. Are you there?”

—

Poison avoided Val Velocity’s eye as he followed Cherri into the office. Val stood near the doorway with his arms folded like a sentry. A faint smirk played at the edges of his lips. Vinyl stood at the store entrance with his gun clutched in both hands, his eyes nervously watching the road.

“Close the door, Cola,” Chow Mein said when they stepped inside. Cherri quietly closed the door behind him, then stood with his arms folded. A radio murmured on Chow Mein’s desk. The grim expression on his face made Poison’s insides tighten.

“Did they send out a transmission?” Cherri said.

“Yes,” Chow Mein said, switching off the radio. “They want to exchange Kobra Kid for the shipment. If we agree, we’re to meet them at Route Hollander at eleven P.M. No Ultra Vs.”

A shiver of fear crackled through Poison’s body. He imagined a dark stretch of highway, a gang of black-suited bandits, and looming headlights that glowed like monster’s eyes.

“What do you want to do?” Cherri said. His voice was quieter than usual.

“Well, we can’t allow this to set a precedent,” Chow Mein said. “If we give in, we’ll have shipments attacked left and right.”

Poison drew back in shock. He glanced over at Cherri, expecting a similar expression. But to his surprise, he was nodding in agreement.

“Send out a call and tell them that we’ll discuss the details here,” Chow Mein said. “No Ultra Vs, of course. Their leader can bring one of her partners, if it makes her feel more comfortable.” He opened a file cabinet and placed a small box on the desk. “I’m sure they’ll come up with some plan of ambush. Tell them that if we see anyone else, we’ll set the shipment on fire. Clearly, we have something that they want.”

“Should they bring Kobra?” Cherri said.

“Yes, of course,” Chow Mein said.

Cherri nodded, then patted Poison on the shoulder and turned to leave. Poison looked frantically around the room. Panic boiled inside him like a rising flame.

“Wait–no!” Poison said. “Shit, man. What are you doing?”

“We’ve dealt with night bandits before,” Chow Mein said, as if they were discussing a business deal. “Negotiation usually doesn’t take long.”

“But this isn’t a business deal, man! This is my brother! You can’t negotiate for my brother!”

“Would you rather he remained in the hands of the bandits?”

“No! No, I–don’t say that! Just tell them you’ll give them the shipment!”

“If we do that, we’re making ourselves vulnerable to attack,” Chow Mein said.

“I don’t care!” Poison shouted. “I don’t care, man! This isn’t about your fucking business! This is about my brother! They took my little brother! Right in front of me! And you’re going to let him die!”

Chow Mein looked at him icily. Poison lunged at him. In a flash, Cherri grabbed him and held him back. Poison fought and struggled and managed to kick the chair in front of his desk. Finally he sagged against him like a sack of rice, his energy burnt out.

“Sit down,” Cherri said. “Hey. C’mon. Just sit down.”

Poison flopped into the chair in front of his desk. Cherri pushed up his mask for a moment, then grabbed the armrest and leaned in front of him.

“Hey,” he said. “Tom knows what he’s doing. I promise. I wouldn’t listen to him if he didn’t.”

Poison looked away, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Cherri pushed his mask back down and headed out the door. A few minutes later, the sounds of a radio murmured outside the office. Cherri and Val started to argue, their voices too low to be heard. Then Val shouted something and a door slammed. Occasionally Poison shot Chow Mein a glare. He coolly looked back at him.

Suddenly the door opened again. Poison jumped in his seat.

“It’s done,” Cherri said. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Poison jumped to his feet, loosely holding his gun in his hand. Chow Mein handed Cherri the small box, then slipped something from his desk drawer. Poison caught a glimpse of something shiny and white before they headed out of the office, Chow Mein locking the door behind them.

Unlike the noise and bustle of daytime, the store was eerily silent. The sky outside the windows was dark. A few dim ceiling lights glowed above the shelves. Poison leaned against the front desk, his heart racing. Cherri’s expression was stony beneath the mask. Poison wondered if he were summoning something from his days as a Draculoid killer, a cold fury that gave him quick reaction.

The store was so quiet that Poison could hear insects chirping outside. Poison clutched his gun, the plastic casing cool beneath his hands. His eyes were focused on the front door as if there were a countdown. When he reached zero, the bandits would pop out, and the gunfight would begin…

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. Poison jumped, his nerves shuddering with anxiety. Cherri’s expression hardened. He walked to the entrance, as cool as a Scarecrow official, and unlocked the open door.

For one horrifying moment, Poison caught a glimpse of the bandit and her partner with an unconscious Kobra Kid slung over his shoulder. Then a flash of light went off. The bandits yelped. Everyone whipped out and pointed their guns, including Chow Mein, who held a standard-issue white ray gun. Poison looked around frantically, expecting to see someone on the floor, but there was no smoke or burning stench of a laser blast.

Then something whirred in the silence. A Polaroid slid out of the camera that Cherri held in his hands. He shook out the developing image, then passed it over to Chow Mein, who tucked it in his suit jacket.

“Thank you, Cola,” he said.

“What are you doing?” the woman said. For the first time, her eyes were wide with fear.

“I’ve decided to make a deal,” he said. “You can leave the Killjoy here and agree to never interfere with another shipment. If you do, I’ll be willing to put this incident behind us. If you don’t, however, this photograph will make its way to the local newspaper, which the editors will print and therefore make it much easier for other Killjoys to find you and kill you.”

Silence hung in the air. The woman clutched her gun in her gloved hands. But her earlier confidence had wavered.

“This wasn’t the deal,” she said finally. “We brought you the Killjoy. Give us the package.”

“We could kill you, Chow Mein,” her partner said. “There’s a dozen of us back at the camp. Don’t forget that.”

“You could take the risk,” Chow Mein said. “But by that time, the photograph will have already ended up in the hands of the Ultra Vs, who will have been instructed to send it to the newspaper in the case of my death. I think you’ll find that Killjoys are even more bloodthirsty if you have my death on your hands.”

The bandits stared at him in stunned silence. Suddenly the partner dumped Kobra to the ground and charged forward like a rolling barrel. Poison and Cherri fired at the same time. He collapsed to the floor with a thud, coughing and clutching his neck. The stench of smoke and burnt fabric filled the air.

“I’ve made my offer,” Chow Mein said. “You can walk away free, or you can have a target on your backs by sunrise.”

The woman looked from Chow Mein to her partner on the ground. After a few tense moments, she nudged her partner with her boot.

“Get up,” she hissed.

He groaned and rolled on his back. Cherri kept his gun pointed at him, a thin trail of smoke rising from the tip.

“ _Get up_ ,” she said. “Come on. Move it.”

Clutching his neck, the man lumbered to his feet like a cow that had been tipped on its side. He cast a slow glare across the room, then stumbled to the door with the woman following behind. She quickly glanced back before hurrying out the door. A few moments later, an engine roared outside. Tires squealed against the blacktop, and the truck sped off.

In an instant, Poison’s attention snapped to the unconscious Kobra sprawled on the floor. He collapsed to his knees beside him and gathered him in his arms like a baby, terrified by the way his head lolled back. Poison patted his face, a hysterical feeling rising in his throat.

“He’s not waking up,” Poison said. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t he waking up?”

Cherri crouched down beside him and touched the side of his neck. “He’s still breathing,” Cherri said. He took Kobra’s head in his hands and examined it. “I don’t see any head trauma,” he said. “I think he’s fine. They probably just gave him some knock-outs.”

They carried him back to one of the motel rooms, where Cherri cleared the storage boxes out of the way. When he left, Poison sat down in a chair beside the bed. The cushion was stiff and hard, as if no one had sat there in years. Stacks of boxes loomed around the dark room.

“Kid?” Poison whispered.

Kobra’s frame stirred in the darkness. He blearily opened his eyes, then lifted his head. “Poison?” he said in a voice heavy with exhaustion.

Poison reached for his hand. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

—

In his office, Chow Mein sliced open the tape that held the package closed. Then he opened the box. When he saw what waited inside, he stopped. He and Cherri exchanged looks.

Inside the shipment were boxes of packaged food, still wrapped in plastic cellophane from the city. A few bottles of water sat off to the side. Cherri picked up one of the boxes and turned it back and forth, but he couldn’t find a place where the box had been opened.

“Maybe they’re drug smugglers,” he said.

Chow Mein shook his head. “Drug smugglers wouldn’t contaminate food,” he said.

They stood in silence for several moments. Finally, Chow Mein opened his ledger book and started marking down the shipment. He handled each box gingerly, as if they contained an ancient desert evil.


End file.
